6 posts tagged “politics”

I realized the day after the election that my entire adult life, George W Bush has been the President, and we have been at war in Iraq.

I was 16 when the Twin Towers fell.

I was 17 when I sat and watched the Shock and Awe in my US Economics class.

I was 19 when I voted for Bush's second term.

I was 23 when I voted for Barack Obama to become the 44th President of the United States.

My Uncle recently said to me, "It feels like The Dark Ages have ended, and that this is the beginning of The Enlightenment."

I can't wait to know what it's like to be a responsible, politically conscious American Citizen in this new age. This new time. This new movement.

My thoughts today?

This Moment of Zen says it all...

Politics has always be en one of those things that I've shied away from.

I was still in high school when this war started. I was only 16 when the Twin Towers fell.

I knew I was angry. I knew I felt sick to my stomach what was happening. All of the sudden that crap that went on in the mystical, frightening "middle east" was on our soil. I didn't understand it, and mostly, I think I still don't understand it.

In 2001, I was thankful that George Bush was our President. He was our savior. Our cowboy. He stood in front of us all, and said that he'd get the bastards that did this to us. To our people. To New York. To all of us. I wore MIA dog tags for a missing New York firefighter. His name was Peter Lagone. My mom wore one with his brother's name on it, Thomas Lagone.

In my simple, young mind, I though that we should just trust the President. I was angry, we were all angry. Bomb the bastards. I truly felt that way. Bomb them. They can't touch us. Better them than us.

We went to Afghanistan. The Taliban. Osama Bin Laden.

Then, almost two years later, I remember sitting in my Economics class, and our teacher turned on the TV so we could all watch the Shock & Awe. The song "Bombs Over Baghdad" popped in my head. The bright, lime green flashes of light reminded me of when I was 5, watching what was happening in the Golf War.

I tried not to think of the people that were dying in all the fireworks. Then the bell rang and I was over it. We walked out of the classroom, more concerned with how many credits we needed to make up so we could graduate.

When I was 18 I registered as a Repuiblican at the same time I signed the petition to get Gray Davis out of office...outside of a Target.

After we had been in Iraq for over a year, and it became clear that maybe there weren't those WMDs after all, I became a little suspicious.

We were at war. I wasn't quite sure why anymore. The anger I felt because of 9/11 had faded away. I supported the troops. I knew that much. It wasn't their fault, they were doing their job.

Come 2004, it was time to vote for Bush or Kerry. I felt like we needed to be out of Iraq. However, Kerry was a jackass. Edwards seemed like an overpaid weather man with bad hair. When they spoke, I didn't believe them. Was it the Republican in me that hated them, or did I just not trust them?

I voted for Bush. I voted for him on the notion that this was his mess, his war, and he was going to have to fucking clean it up. I didn't want Jackass and Weatherman coming into office with their fake hair and lies, and try to clean up something that was far greater, and had far more secrets than they knew about.  

Slowly I really began to wonder about Bush. The troops. Rumsfeld. I got tired of being a Republican.

I think was really did it for me was the gay marriage issue. How in the fucking world did they not see that denying gay people the right to marriage was unconstitutional? It still blows my mind. How, HOW do you DENY someone ANYTHING because of WHO THEY LOVE? Do you really care THAT MUCH where someone's dick goes? How they get off? Who they cuddle up to at night?

And why do you care about that?? OH. That's right. Some mythical guy who can turn water into wine and wore Birkenstocks. Sure, he was a lovely guy, but I thought he taught people about love, and peace. And I'm also pretty sure that old ass book that tells you one man is not suppose to lay next to (or in) another man is just that: OLD AS FUCK.

Don't talk to me about being Green and Global Warming and tell me that the "state of the union is strong"  and expect me to take you seriously when you still tell people who they can and can't fuck. Or try to tell me what I can or can't do with my uterus.

I eventually registered as "Decline To State".

After moving to London, and after really getting involved and realizing how much I cared about feminism, and just equality for everyone (except stupid people) I realized what a fucked up mess all this Republican, Democrat, Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter bulllllshit is.

On my way home from the fucked up Feminism conference I went to in Newcastle, I started really thinking about politics. I was on fire. I didn't agree with everything those hardcore, ridiculously hardcore feminist said...but I knew one thing. We need a change.

Desperately, desperately need a change.

I walked into a bookstore at the Newcastle train station. I looked for any magazine or book that wasn't about Britney Spears or the confessions of a hooker...and then I saw Hillary Clinton's smug little smile staring at me from across the aisle.

Growing up, I was taught to hate Bill Clinton, and to hate Hillary even more. I remember thinking that he was slime after the whole Lewinsky, cigar incident, and thinking that Hillary was a moron for staying with him. Now, I realize that I don't give a shit. I don't care about who people fuck or what their relationship is like. I think in politics people tend to care too much about that stuff. ("I FUCK MY WIFE!"...5:45 in the video. The rest of is is Bill Maher being a misogynist asshole.)

I started to read Hillary's book, and realized that she was much more human than everyone thinks. I read about her family, how she grew up, her time in law school. I read about her views on Medicare, and how involved she was in Bill's presidency. I'll be honest and say I haven't finished it, I'm about half way through Bill's first term, but I had read enough to know I believed in Hillary.

I decided to vote for her back in July.

I had to ask myself if I wanted to vote for her because she was a woman, or because I thought she would be the right person for the job. The answer is both. As I said before, we need a change. A big one. It's absolutely RIDICULOUS that we haven't had a female leader yet. Hillary is the closest we're going to get for a very long time, and I know that she's the right person for the job. I feel it in my bones.

On the contrary, if Condi Rice was running, I would NOT vote for her. Yes, she's a woman. No, I don't think she's right for the job. But, you probably just think I'm racist, and that's why I'd chose not to vote for her, right?

My politics have changed dramatically., but I changed them on my own. There are things that I care very much about. I care very much about womens rights, and you know there's no way in HELL Hillary is going to reverse Roe vs Wade.

I know she made some lame voting decisions in the Senate. I've been told everything about Hillary from the fact that she's a criminal and a fake, to a communist. For the record, I'm not a moron. I know politicians are dirty, and I don't expect any less than that from the Clintons. They've probably killed people and hid their bodies somewhere at Camp David. To be honest, I don't care. I suppose this even gives them street cred. Maybe they even have their own gang signs.

I've been told Bill Clinton was a horrible president, granted I was very young while he was in power, but I don't recall any wars, any drastic financial crisis...only a stain on a blue dress.

At the end of the day, I trust that Hillary is going to go in there and kick ass. It's the best of both worlds for me, she's going to tackle the issues I care about (universal health care, civil unions -not the same as gay marriage I KNOW-, getting our troops out of Iraq, stem cell research) and she'll be breaking the highest glass ceiling there is by doing it.

I'm sure Obama's a great guy. I'm sure he's a great politician. I'm sure he'd probably do well as the President. But just not now. Not where our country is at the moment.

I've seen him talk, and I just don't believe him. I don't get excited by what he has to say, or how he says it. Call me stupid, but I need to feel something when someone who wants my vote talks to me. Obama talks...I feel nothing.

On the contrary, when Hillary talks I get goose bumps. I get excited. I BECOME SEXUALLY AROUSED at the thought of her giving a State of the Union speech.

I suppose the bottom line for me, is that I've made up my mind who I want to be my President.

I don't feel the need to swap statistics, or voting histories, or secret facts with you. I don't want to hear about some book that was written that proves why Hillary is a commie or why Obama is inexperienced. I don't care. In politics, I really don't believe there is any truth. I don't take anything for fact. I go with my gut, and take in as much information as I can understand, and try to form an opinion about something, which I feel is as close to the truth as I can get.

This is why I am voting for Hillary Clinton in 2008.

This is why I'm Decline To State.

I am not Democrat. I am not Republican.

I am simply an American, who has seen and experienced how the rest of the world sees us. It's not pretty, at the moment. We're in a bit of a mess. We need a clean up crew. We need a change.

We need some ovaries. Women get shit done.

 

For those of you who may not know, I was born and raised in California. I lived in the US for 20 years and 10 months. That makes me an American. (Say it with me now: AMMMEEERRRRIIIICAAAAN.)

I have lived in the UK for about a year and a half. I work here. I play here. My toes get really cold here.

Moving to another country isn't the easiest thing in the world, especially when you get the sneaking suspicion that every time you open your mouth and reveal the fact that not only are you foreign, but your from one of the most judged and hated countries in the world, that people are thinking, "Ugh. An American."

Before becoming an Expat, I had only ever experienced sexism, ageism...never racism.

I've had the occasional comment calling me a Yank that should go back to my own country. I was got into a drunken confrontation where I told some little boy to fuck off, and I was immediately shot with, "Where are you from?  WHERE ARE YOU FROM? You should GO BACK TO WHERE YOU'RE FROM."

But other than that, the type of racism I've experienced has been the passive agressive, off-handed comments made by anyone and everyone. Comments that if were made about Africans, Muslims, or Asians, would be branded as offensive and disgusting...but when made about Americans, no one seems to think: "Thats racist and that's not okay."

Watching Have I Got News For You last night, I ignored all the California jokes the presenters made while talking about the horrible fires that are burning up The Sunshine State - but I couldn't help wonder if the same jokes were made about the victims of Hurricane Katrina, would people be outraged?

However, I was pissed off when the host of the show made some off-handed remark like, "Now, I don't hate Americans. I have two initial reactions when talking about them, and that is: the first half of me has this natural hatred of America...and well, the second half of me is exactly the same..." *insert roars of laughter from the audience here*

Sometimes I wonder if people really don't like Americans, or if they're just hopping on the I Hate America bandwagon because they need to get their racism out somehow, and hating the usual suspects just isn't as PC any more. But hey, why not hate America! We sure seem to hate ourselves, so why not? Come on! It's fun! You can mock us with slow southern accents and quote something stupid the President said! Shit, there are books, calendars, and dolls to help perpetuate the hate!

And it's the thing to do, isn't it? Some people dislike Bush, and exercise their freedom of speech because that's what they truly believe. However, it seems like others just buy in to it because, "Hah, we hate Bush! That makes us better than all those other Americans...right?" Sure, there are some jokes that are funny, but I think I at the heart of most of the jokes, it's not just a Bush joke, it's Anti-American joke. And it makes me want to scream.

Scream because somewhere along the line, some parts of the world have now chosen to look at us like we're all a bunch of bumbling, bombing assholes.

Scream because we are so much more than a Fast Food Nation and rednecks and bombs and war and two fallen towers. We are more than obesity and Wal-Mart and Los Angeles.

However, when I ask myself, "Well, then what IS America?" all I can do is get frustrated and cry and grunt and drool and point because I have NO IDEA what America is. How can I even articulate that?

All I know, is that I love country music. I love women like the Dixie Chicks with all my heart. I like McDonalds and the Fourth Of July. I love cowboy boots and my freedom of speech and the fact that when I go back home the girls at Starbucks UNDERSTAND HOW TO MAKE MY FUCKING DRINK, and the waiter at Applebees refils my drink without asking and the cashier at the Safeway looks me in the eye and says THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY MA'AM and when a bunch of Americans are standing in line together, WE TALK.

It's so hard to articulate why I won't apologize for being American, and I think Diablo Cody actually said it best:

Seriously, I don't want to hear any more apologies or red-faced admissions. Stop hating yourself because of where you were born, or the fact that you think putting cookie batter in ice cream was a good idea. Stop hating yourself for taping All My Children or preferring Dean Koontz to Proust. You're a product of your culture like anyone else, and it's not a reflection on your intellect or self-discipline. To me, the phrase "ugly American" is as offensive as "ugly Asian." It's called STEREOTYPING and it's gross.

When I read people stereotyping Americans and dismissing what somebody says simply because they're a fat American, my head practically explodes. When I hear other Americans in the UK talking about how they're "embarassed" by American tourists, it strikes a cord with me. It does. I like to think that I'm better than that...

But then why do I cringe whenever I'm walking through London on my way to work, and I hear some guy with socks and sandals and a bright red Jansport backpack with a University of _______ hat on yelling in his loud-ass American accent,

"HONEY!? Where in the HECK is LIE-CESTER SQUARE!? IS THAT NEAR THAT CON-VENT GARDEN PLACE?"

It's the strangest feeling, staring at someone that could so easily be my Uncle or your Dad or your Grandfather who is by one culture's standards making a complete ass out of himself, and by another's, he's simply just trying to find out where the heck that gosh darn Leicester Square is so he can take a friggin' picture ofthe Odeon theatre.

I understand that when people come over to Europe and the UK, they're not exactly sure of what the hell they're doing. Put me in the centre of Tokyo, and I promise you I'll be doing the exact same thing. Minus the socks and the sandals.

Granted, there are people who simply don't care where you're from. There are some who just LOVE America and want to know everything about where you're from. There are people who treat you just like everyone else, and are smart enough to know that just because your government is run by a nit-wit, that doesn't make you one, too.

I think the cold hard truth is that there are small truths to practically every stereotype that is out there. For those of you who know the Avenue Q song Everyone's A Little Bit Racist, you know what I mean. There are red-neck Americans like Toby Keith who don't believe in freedom of speech and think that putting boots up people's asses is the "American Way". There are Valley Girls from California. There are Fat Americans. There are Soccer Moms that drive mini vans in the suburbs and pretentious Fashionistas in Manhattan.There are even racist people in the south.

And you know what? There are oblivious Americans that live in other countries. There are loud-mouthed Americans on The Tube who talk much too loudly and don't get the London Rule that YOU DON'T TALK ON THE TUBE. There a Americans that mispronounce cities and the names of Tube stops because, no matter how innocently, they don't care if they pronounce it wrong.
 
And then there are the Americans that sat next to me the other night at dinner, they didn't care how FUCKING ANNOYING they were, or how loudly they were talking.

"So, like, my Dad has a Masters Degree in Theology, but like, I've created my own religion."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah. Like, for example, I believe that, like, Jesus was married, to Mary Magdeline."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah, like, cuz have you seen Jesus Christ Superstar, and stuff?"

"Wow. Yeah."

"Okay, cuz like, I have the soundtrack and stuff, and it totally explains that."

"Wow. Yeah. What I don't get is, like, The Bible."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah, cuz like, it says that men are better than women, and that's just, like, stupid."

"No. I know! And like, how society teaches us that men can't cry in public! That's like, so stupid."

"Wow, I know.Society does teach us that."

"Society totally does,teach us that and stuff."

"Yeah, what society teaches us...puh-leeze."

This conversation took place between a a boy and a girl, both probably about 22-years-old, and they took themselves, like, totally seriously.

I was dying. I kept thinking, "Jesus christ. Is this how Americans sound to everyone else?"

It made me incredibly self-conscious. I remember telling Iain, "It scares me that people will overhear this conversation, and only take in to account that they're American, and they must be so stupid and ignorant because they're American."

And that's the struggle I face. I know that the rest of the world is so eager and quick to dismiss people not because they're stupid, not because they're immature, inconsiderate or even arrogant: they dismiss them because they think that they must be that way BECAUSE they're American.

I think for Expats seeing Americans how some people in the rest of the world sees us can be very tough. I'm not embarrassed to be American. I'm not even embarrassed BY other Americans. It just makes me cringe when I see Americans acting in a stereotypical way.

I suppose the best way to describe what if feels like when I hear an American acting like a "stereotypical American", is that it's like being in high school and having your mom show up on campus wearing her ratty old bathrobe and curlers in her hair screaming,

 "SUGAR PIE! YOU FORGOT YOUR OLIVE LOAF SANDWICH WITH THE CRUST CUT OFF!!!"

It's slightly mortifying, but you're also very aware of the fact that you shouldn't care what other people think about your mom. You know her intentions are good and innocent, and that she's just being herself. You even sort of envy her blissful ignorance...however, at the same time, she's still a crazy lady screaming about olive loaf in her bathrobe.

Now, I could choose to blush and sit there thinking, "FOR FUCK SAKE, MOM! Why can't just learn to fit in! Do you have to wear that stupid bathrobe!? Can't you just keep your voice down and learn how to pronounce the cities of the places your visiting?!"

Or I could just smile, not worry about it, take the sandwich, point which direction Lie-cester Square is, and carry on with my day.

My family has a long running tradition of ordering Chinese food on Christmas Eve.

Why? Perhaps we'll never know.

I have a feeling this tradition came about because my Grandmother had six children and didn't want to have to cook a massive, traditional meal for eight, two nights in a row.

So, Iain and I thought we'd carry on the tradition by ordering Chinese food on Boxing Day.

One of the only Chinese take-away shops open in our entire post code is a place I will forever refer to as 'Little Hong Kong' due to the extreme lack of, um, ENGLISH spoken in the shop.

 I honestly felt like I had traveled to China to order my food as the language barrier was about as thick and long as the bloody Great Wall itself.

Thank god we didn't call to order our food, as much pointing, sign language, and interpretive dance was used to just get vegetarian spring rolls, instead of won-tons.

Anyway, as Iain sat mesmerized by the immaculate fiber optics tree, I read the December 8th edition of the London Lite and came across an article entitled, "I got so fed up with builders I became one". Intriguing, no?

This woman named Kerrie Keeling used to be an investment banker, and after one too many run ins with builders that like to "holla" and plumbers that liked to pee in her sink, she started up her own construction business called A Woman's Touch.

At first I was picturing them using pink hammers, wearing yellow, latex overalls ala Benny Bonassi's Satisfaction video. However, I checked out their website, and was seriously fucking impressed.

I won't regurgitate the information for you, as you can check out their website yourself, but let me pause and reflect on how FUCKING AWESOME THIS IS.

Look, I know all builders/construction workers/electricians/plumbers/painters aren't sexist pigs. Nor do you yell at every girl under the age of 75 to come hither, whilst you pretend to wank off with your hammer.  

But for FUCK SAKE it's good to know that there is a woman run company out there that exist PURELY to stand out, has policies and a kick ass philosophy:

We will arrange a mutually agreeable time to visit you and conduct the initial assessment and quotation. We will arrive for the quote promptly, with ID to prove who we are, and in the company van so we're easily identifiable.

All 3 of you that read this post of mine, understand how IMPORTANT THAT IS to me. And just in general. You HAVE to be paranoid as fuck with "plumbers" and "I am Xavier? I here to check gas machine? The meter?".

We will arrive punctually on day one of the job. We work from 9am to 5pm with a 45 minute break for lunch, Monday-Friday. We do not take cigarette breaks [we are all non-smokers] or feeling a bit lazy breaks! We work hard all day, and don't waste time. At the end of each day we pack away all of our equipment and clean up extremely thoroughly (including vacuuming etc).

I wonder if they take "Porn Breaks" or "Check out this girl with the big tits" breaks...I'm guessing not. I clicked around the website and when I found this quote from Kerrie Keeling,

"I decided to leave banking when I found myself using phrases like 'shifting the goal posts'."

I fell in love with her. I almost wanted to email her and see if she would be okay project managing and designing the interior of 'my precious'.

When first moving to London it was like I was floating on air. Everything was shiny, new, and tinted with my Union Jack colored glasses.

My fat American ass had to get used to walking everywhere, but it was okay! I was in London. Walk? Fuck it, I will skip to the grocery store if you need me to!

My first kick in the nuts that cracked my glorified view of city life was curtesy of a few lovely Builders from a certain scaffolding company. If I knew their name I would link to it and encourage you to send dead pigeons covered in leftover turkey giblets -and perhaps a few turkey necks- their way...But alas, I do not.

The day before, I had been skipping and jiving walking to the store, dressed in jeans and a Tshirt, and had to walk past some builders who were doing god knows what to a building near the cross walk.

"OOooOOOO BABY! DAAAMN!"

Whistle. Whistle. Throw in a few "OW!!!!"s and you get the idea.

I ignored it because, well, I ain't no holla back girl. 

And I certainly didin't want to give them more attention.

A few hours shopping, and I walked my myself back home, and low and behold the Builders were still there..Still, not sure what they were working on, but there they were, perched up on the scaffolding.

"Oi OI OI OI! OoooOOOO BBBBAAAABBBBYYYY!! YOU WANT SOME?  YOU WANT SOME!? LOOK AT THOSE TITS!!!!"

Okay, when you mention my tits, that's going too far. The she-devil inside me was immediately awakened so I flipped them off.

They laughed, they cheered.

Not exactly the reaction I had hoped for.

"Awww BABY! Don't be mad!!!"

So I yelled "FUCK OFF ASSHOLE!" so that the pathetic pig on top on the 5th level could hear me.

Yeah. I told them.

So, you can imagine my frustration when the next day, I had to walk past them again, and some shirtless sack of bones twat made kissy noises at me and called me "sweet cheeks".

I should have ignored it. But I can't be silent. I couldn't just walk away knowing that I was the better person.

So I flipped him off, again.

Skinny Twat: "OH Yeah? Then why don't you come here and do it?"

Me: "You couldn't handle it, asshole."

There. That was that. Damn I was good. OooOOoooh yes. No one talks to ME like that.

Too bad on my way home, they were still there...again.

The whistles I ignored. The kissing noises. The "Hey Baby"s...

"Oi! Look at those BIG NIPPLES."

Yeah. They called me 'Big Nipples' in front of everyone on the high street.

Me (Big Nipples): "What the FUCK is your problem?"

Him (Skinny Twat): "............."

Me: "Shut the FUCK UP and GET TO WORK."

Him: "....Well..I -er..."

Me: "Why do you yell at girls when you walk by? Does THAT EVER WORK FOR YOU??"

Him: "Eraha...Sometimes. Not today, though."

Me: "Yeah, I pity the bitch that ever falls for your bullshit."

And the whistling and yelling commenced as I walked the rest of my way back home. Stupid, yes. I should have just ignored them because they got the rise out of me that they wanted...

But I couldn't just keep my little girl mouth shut...Especially when they called me 'Big Nipples'. WHO says that?

However, I believe men suffer from same embarassment and harassment that women go through from people who give builders and electricians a bad name...

For example, when we first moved in, our entry phone didn't work. Our landlord is convieniently friends with an electrician, so he showed up one saturday morning with his 4 year old daughter.

Yay. Beacuse I just love children.

The electrician messed about with entry phone while we tried to keep his daughter entertained with some juggling balls Iain had leftover from his days as a street performer. (I kid...it was Cirque de Sole...)

She was all cute, and would play catch with Iain and giggled as he juggled.

Maybe children really aren't that bad..... 

However, when her dad went downstairs to get some more tools out of his truck, her horns poked out and my left ovary immediately collapsed.

She started pelting the juggling balls at Iain's crotch - with great force.

Her dad came back in the house and scolded her,

"Now, now! Be gentle, darling. That's not polite. Stop that."

However, she continued to hurl the balls at Iain screaming,

"BUT HE'S GOT A BIG WILLY! HE'S GOT A BIG WILLY!!!!!!"

"Goodness! Don't say that! That's very rude, young lady."

"Big wiiiiillllly!!!!"

"Be quiet, darling. That's impolite!"

"BIG WILLY!  HE'S GOT A BIG WIIIIIIILLLY!!!!!!!"

What do you say to that?

"Oh no he doesn't"?

"She's right, actually...."?

Or

"No, not really...It's just these jeans."?

Basically, I think it's fucking wonderful that A Woman's Touch exists. I love it when people take shit into their own hands (hi there, world's grossest metaphor) and take a stand for what is right.

It's not sexist. It is not encouraging further stereotyping.

It's just, why does shit like that go on?

So what if the company is ran by women; men work there, too.

The philosophy behind it logical. The entire POINT of the company is fucking brilliant.

There are a whole fucking lot some "4 Gurlz, BY GURLZ!!!!!1!!1!!" shit out there that I can't stand.

For example, when women act like, "Oh my golly! We've made a contraption so you TOO can pee standing up! Who says it's just for men? Tee-hee!!" or dye a GPS device pink and say "Look! It's girl friendly!".

But this actually makes sense, and is ran by certified electricians, project managers, decorators and builders that know their shit.

It just so happens that its run by women, and markets to women, but it is fucking legitimate. It' DOESN'T HAVE A PINK WEBSITE, their work van isn't covered in pink, fluffy fur, and they don't paint in Manolos.

Kerrie was even given the 2006 Demeter award for female entrepreneurs by IBM.

Very inspiring. If I ever need some serious painting, plumbing, or my entry phone serviced again, we're calling these girls...

Because something tells me the ladies in this video are just pretending....